


Put On A Show

by mustachio



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Fingerfucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustachio/pseuds/mustachio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altair decides to put on a little show for Malik.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another one from the Assassin's Creed Kink Meme.

Altair isn't entirely certain of the reason he started this. Boredom, perhaps. Boredom and a desire for a new way to get under Malik's skin. The two of them may have been on better terms than they once had been, but there was no denying the fun that could come from igniting that fiery temper the one armed assassin was so well known for. Yes, he thinks now. It that most likely is the reason he began this little -- show. Not that the reason matters much as long as it's having the intended effect, and as far as Altair can tell it most certainly is. 

  
He's brought out of his thoughts by his own moaning - a loud, hungry, desperate sound meant for the ears of the man standing in the doorway with his one hand hidden in his breeches, stroking himself to every sound that comes out of Altair's mouth. It's a wonderful sight, he thinks. A wonderful, beautiful sight and he would like to have that hand on his own cock later on when he's finished with his performance. Malik isn't looking at him, though, and his lips pull down into a small frown. He wants his audience to actually look at him while this happens.   
  
"Malik."   
  
His voice is strained, he's breathless, and the name comes out more like a moan than a call for attention. It doesn't get the dai's attention and Altair eyes the open drawer and the jar of oil inside. If this wasn't enough to get Malik to prefer the sight of him over the back of his eye lids, perhaps he'd have to go a little further. He only calls Malik's name again when his hands are soaked with the oil and gliding over his entrance, but not actually sinking in just yet.   
  
" _Malik._ "   
  
It's more forceful this time, and more effective in getting his friend to look over and once that happens Altair wastes no time in lowering himself down on to his fingers, slowly, slowly, painfully slowly and he moans the other man's name so loudly and so very shamelessly. Malik's lips part slightly, tongue just barely poking out to run over the dry, cracked skin of them. He'd been painfully hard before, but now it was nearly unbearable. Altair's lips are now curved upward in a smirk, and Malik can't help but think of how he'd like to bend the man over a desk, fuck him until he could no longer walk, and wipe that smirk right off his face. Another moan brings him out of the fantasy, his attention once again drawn to the erotic image in front of him.   
  
Altair's slow pace makes it feel like years pass before his fingers - he's too impatient to start out going one at a time - are as deep as they'll get and he rolls his hips a bit to try and get them just a little bit deeper, to get just a little friction, but still going so slow and torturing himself that way, keeping his performance from ending too quickly.    
  
"Get on with it."   
  
Malik's voice comes out in a breathless rasp and Altair can't help but chuckle to himself. Malik is coming undone, just as he'd wanted and he loves the sound of his voice like that - the desperation buried deep inside of it. It's enough to get him to move quicker, to bend his fingers so that they hit a certain spot, and force another loud moan from his lips. His other hand is still stroking his painfully hard cock, forefinger and thumb circling around the head and squeezing just enough to get a pressure that, when combined with the movement of his fingers, causes his vision to go white from behind the cover of his eyelids.   
  
" _Malik!_ "   
  
His moans are needlessly loud, purposefully so, and when he sees Malik shift his position slightly so that he's no longer looking at Altair from an angle, but instead has a direct view now. The dai's expression is slightly annoyed, slightly impatient, very hungry. Malik's strokes to his own cock are rough and erratic and Altair thinks it probably won't be long until he finishes. Then again, he may not be too far off from his own release either. He adds a third finger, bucking his hips up into his hand, and then quickly sinking back down on his fingers. The friction on both ends feels unbearably good, the way his fingers hit that perfect spot just right, and god, if there truly is any sort of god in the world, he is thanking him now for making this type of pleasure possible.   
  
But then it stops. His hand is removed from its place on his cock and replaced with something hot and wet and Altair pauses the rolling of his hips, too surprised and distracted by the feel of Malik's mouth around him. Altair swallows hard, sucks in a breath, and forcefully lets it out in a gasp of the other man's name. Fuck. If he thought it was good when it was just his own hands doing the work, this was fantastic, amazing, heavenly - whatever it was it was so much more than just  _good_ .   
  
Malik wraps his tongue around the head, not taking Altair fully onto his mouth just yet, but teasing, and getting him riled up just as the man had done to him only seconds before. His one hand brushes up the shaft to his balls, giving them a squeeze before moving to his hips to push Altair back down when he arches into Malik's mouth. That only causes Altair's fingers to sink deeper than they'd been before, deeper and somewhere that would very nearly push him over the edge if it weren't for his practiced restraint. After what feels like ages, Malik is done teasing and moves to take more of Altair's cock in his mouth, letting his teeth graze it just ever so slightly - enough to tickle and get a shiver going up the Grand Master's spine.   
  
"Fuck!"   
  
Malik laughs, the vibrations doing nothing to help Altair keep himself from reaching his release already. A hand makes its way into Malik's hair, holding tight as Malik sucks him off, giving an occasional lick, and causing Altair's breath to come out in short, hard gasps. His hips are rolling, faster, faster, any possible rhythm abandoned as he thrusts his fingers in and out and Malik's mouth moves around him and brings him to a shattering release that has him seeing stars for a good time afterwards.   
  
Malik grimaces at the taste of Altair's seed in his mouth and makes no effort to hide it when he spits in out in a nearby container. Altair just chuckles and arches a brow when he sees that Malik seems to have found his own release without any help. Disappointing, but he supposes there's always later.   
  
"If we're finished, there is work to be done. Later there will be time for more of this."   
  
Altair knew there was a reason he made Malik his second in command - the man always knew just the right thing to say.


	2. A Job Well Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malik said there would be time for more later and later is now.

Paperwork, Altair decides, was not a job for the Assassin's Grand Master. Records and other such things need to be written up and kept, of course, but that should not have been left to the Grand Master. Things of this nature would be more suited to the Dais and Rafiqs. Altair glares at the paper in front of him, the markings on the page barely forming understandable words to his tired mind. Having to deal with all of the technicalities and organizational issues is far more exhausting than missions out in the field and at this point, he is ready to leave it for the next day or even the day after that. He has better things to do than sit in front of a desk all day.

When Malik enters the room he barely looks up at Altair, choosing instead to focus on organizing the papers on his desk. Altair watches him, waiting. He hasn't forgotten the promise Malik made earlier and the former dai is clearly finished with his own work. He pushes the last few papers to the side and gets up from his seat to move around to the other side of his desk, leaning on it and hoping the movement is enough to catch the other man's attention. When Malik finally acknowledges him with words, he remains facing away.

"If you have something to say, say it. I have no desire to stand around here all day waiting for you to find your voice."

"Our work is finished and now that it is later here is something else I would like to take care of."

Malik turns around, brow arched, and a slight sneer playing on his lips.

"My work is finished, novice. You have spent the last few hours doing nothing but staring off into space. If you want to do anything else you will stop distracting yourself and finish the task at hand."

Altair rolls his eyes slightly, but goes back around to his chair and picks up his pen. That type of response was to be expected. Malik has always been extremely efficient in his work and has little patience for those who aren't the same way and while that made for a good Assassin, there were many times Altair wishes he weren't so serious about his job - when he's trying to get the man in his bed, for instance.

"You would do well to remember your promise from earlier, Malik."

"I promised you nothing, Altair. I said that when you were finished with your work there would be time for pleasure, but I never made any promises. Besides, that still does not change the fact that while my work may be finished, yours still remains."

Altair just shrugs and looks back at the paper he'd been staring at before and scribbles out a few words before pushing it into another pile of papers.

"I am finished enough. The rest of this can wait until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow will have it's own work to focus on."

Malik's has never been a very patient person, least of all with Altair, and this was a perfect example of the reason for that. He would like to do nothing more than smack the man upside the head and it takes all of his restraint to keep himself from doing so. Altair knew exactly how to get under his skin and never failed to do so whether he realized it or not - and Malik was sure that he did. He ignores Altair after their last little exchange. Every time he dignified the man with a response was another lost chance at any of the papers on his desk getting any of the attention they needed. Only a few minutes pass before Malik hears the faint scratching of a pen on paper and he smirks a little, pleased with the way he'd been able to get Altair to do what he had to do with minimal problems. 

That smirk quickly fades, however, when the scratching stops and instead he hears the sound of something dropping to the floor - something he knows without even looking is very likely some piece of Altair's clothing. Malik turns, scowl only deepening when Altair is in his line of vision and making no effort to hide his lack of pants or the hand on his cock. Now Altair is smirking, he knows that he's getting under Malik's skin again and he enjoys the feeling of being able to get to him as he can. That smirk -- Malik hates that smirk with every thing he has in him and that feeling he'd had earlier - the one where he wanted to bend Altair over his desk and fuck him until he no longer had the ability to smirk - returns.

Within seconds Malik is standing over Altair, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him up to press their mouths together. The kiss is rough, hard, and involves too much tooth to really be enjoyable, but it gets a moan out of Altair anyway. Altair was already half hard to begin with and this only makes it worse. Malik can feel his length pressed against him and he removes his hand from Altair's robes to wrap around his cock, stroking a few times to get him to full hardness and smirks into the kiss when the Grand Master moans once again. The kiss does not last long. Malik pulls away from it fairly quickly to trail his lips along Altair's neck, nipping and licking wherever he can. At the crook of his neck, Malik bites down hard - hard enough to draw blood - and it gets yet another moan out of the other man. Malik can't help but to smirk again. How quickly Altair had gone from his usual arrogant demeanor to this shameless display.

"If you are moaning like this already, I doubt you will make it very far."

That earns a growl from Altair and he grinds his hips into Malik's in retaliation. Malik pushes into Altair right back and the friction this causes sends them both moaning and panting and griping at each other. Soon enough the rest of their clothes are gone and Malik reaches into one of the drawers on Altair's desk, already very aware of the location of what he's looking for - a jar of oil, meant just for times like these. He coats his hand with the oil, reaching behind Altair and running his fingers lightly over his entrance before entering him quickly, not bothering in the least to try for any amount of gentleness. Altair arches into him, legs spread, and looking every bit as shameless as he was feeling. For his second in command, he didn't care about keeping up pretenses and stoic faces. For Malik, he would be as expressive as he felt necessary.

Malik keeps this up for a few minutes. His pace switches from painfully slow to painfully fast and Altair feels as though he's about finish right then and there, but then Malik stops. He seems to be looking over his shoulder, at the desk still full of unfinished papers. He pulls his fingers out, getting a growl and a glare from Altair, but Malik simply turns away.

"What are you doing, Malik?"

"Perhaps you will feel more inclined to do your work now."

"You can't just stop like that before we are finished."

"Can't I? You seem to have no trouble leaving a job unfinished, why can I not do the same?"

There is no smirk on Malik's face, but it can be heard in his voice - that smug attitude of his is as clear as his erection. Altair doesn't let Malik go for very long. It's only a matter of seconds before he's got Malik by the shoulders, pressed against the window behind them, their cocks rubbing together to create a feeling only matched by the one of being inside the other. They don't care who can see them through that window - let them stare as they bit, licked, and gripped at each other, in this moment, the didn't care about anything but each other.

At some point, neither of them remember exactly when, Malik is on his knees, Altair thrusting into his mouth and his hand curling into a tight grip in the one armed man's hair. His mouth was wet and so warm and it felt so good. Malik always had a way with his mouth - his words, his kisses, but this? This was the greatest one of them all. 

Unfortunately, it doesn't last for very long. Fortunately, when Malik comes up he's coating his hand in the oil on the desk again, getting both himself and Altair ready for what they'd both been waiting for all this time. What came before felt good, but it would be nothing compared to what came next. Malik spins him around so that his backside is facing him, and presses his hand against Altair's lower back to indicate that he wanted Altair to bend over. Altair doesn't waste any time in doing so and Malik wastes no time in entering him.

Malik's thrusts are slow and deliberate, hips angled in a way that allows him to hit the spot he knows turns Altair into a writhing mess underneath him. Altair pushes back into him, wanting Malik as deep as possible and growing impatient with the slow pace. His nails are digging into the wood of the desk and oh god he's not sure how much more he can take, but then the hand that had been on his back is making its way around to his cock and stroking slowly - always slowly, Malik's way of punishing him when he doesn't do his job as efficiently as Malik would like. That hand moves in time with Malik's thrusts, squeezing occasionally, and moving down to cup his balls and squeezing there, too. This continues for a while until finally Altair can feel Malik picking up speed, but there is no rhythm and they're far too erratic. Malik is close and that's okay, Altiar is hardly far from his own completion and he enjoys this faster pace for as long as he can, alternating between thrusting into Malik's hand and pressing back into his cock.

When Malik hits his finish he throws his head back and moans - loudly. His hand squeezes Altair's cock hard and gets another loud moan from the man. He doesn't pull out immediately, preferring to ride out his orgasm inside of Altair and letting his seed spill into him until it's over. After that he thrusts a few more times and then Altair's own orgasm hits. He moans, still as shameless as he'd been throughout all of this. He's breathless, completely satisfied, and entirely unable to move. He doesn't care about the mess he made in Malik's hand, nor does he care about the weight of the other man on his back when he, too, finds himself unable to move very far.

He feels Malik pressing light kisses to his shoulders and back and he smiles contentedly. For all of Malik's fussing about not doing his job, he would certainly say this was a job well done.


End file.
